


Actions Speak Louder Than Words

by Use_your_glutes



Series: One Shots and shit posts [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, fob - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Gen, I need your validation to live, I'm not tagging anything else because spoilers, just read it pls, no one likes Pete's shoes lets face it, some fluff at the end, this is a shitpost, this is like the shortest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Use_your_glutes/pseuds/Use_your_glutes
Summary: Pete's always made questionable clothing choices, but recently his shoes have reached a whole new level of awful, and his band has finally had enough.





	Actions Speak Louder Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this in like 30 minutes, I just really hate Pete's shoes.

Pete didn’t know why Andy had flown from Portland just to hang out with him for a few hours in LA, if he was being paranoid, which he was, he’d think that Andy was planning something. It wasn’t like Andy to fuck with him, not if it meant flying out to LA at least. But he was very insistent that they didn’t go back to his house, and Andy didn’t really do insistent, being the very definition of ‘chill’.

It wasn’t until they finally did get back to Pete’s house that he realised he wasn’t just being paranoid, because parked in his driveway were Joe and Patrick’s cars.

“Andy.” Pete said warily as he put his car into park. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dismissed as he got out of the now stationary car and walked up to Pete’s front door.

“Andy!” Pete yelled in frustration as he jumped out of his car to follow him. “Why are Joe and Patrick’s cars here?!”

“Huh, I didn’t even notice them.” Andy clearly lied as he opened Pete’s door, that should have been locked, and walked inside Pete’s house.

“What the fuck?” Pete said under his breath as he followed Andy into his kitchen, and then through to his back yard, where Joe and Patrick were waiting… with a metal trash can…

“What the fuck?” He repeated, louder this time and far more confused as the three other men stared back at him.

“Pete, we all love you.” Joe said earnestly as he stood up from where he was sitting on Pete’s garden table.

“What?” Pete gaped, even more confused.

“Which is why we’re holding this intervention.” Joe continued as he bent down to pick up a tote bag from behind the trash can.

“Intervention? What?” Pete laughed now, what could they possibly need to call an intervention for? He hadn’t been doing anything reckless recently, the only thing that sprung to mind was the length of his hair, but they wouldn’t call an intervention for something as mundane as that, would they?

“These,” Joe stated as he pulled out a navy blue slide that Pete had bought during tour. “Are ugly.” Then threw it in the trash can.

“Hey!” Pete protested and stepped forward, only for Andy to grab him and lock his arms behind his back.

“What the fuck!” He yelled and tried but failed to struggle against Andy.

“You know it, I know it, we all know it.” Joe said flatly as he retrieved the matching slide from the tote bag and dropped into the trash can along with the other.

“I like those!” Pete protested again as he tried to struggle away from Andy but continued to fail, damn it vegan super powers!

“No you don’t, no one does.” Joe said bluntly as he retrieved another shoe, this one, one of his Yeezy 500’s.

“Not my Yeezy’s.” Pete pleaded and turned to Patrick with wide eyes.

“Ugly.” Patrick stated without so much as blinking as Joe dropped them into the trash can along with the slides.

“You like Yeezy’s!” Pete protested again.

“Not those one’s, we called a vote, everyone hates them, Pete.” Patrick said sternly.

“We’re doing this for you.” Andy said as he held Pete tighter.

“Look I appreciate the symbolic gesture but-“

“This isn’t symbolic.” Patrick said and then Pete’s head shot back to the trash can when he heard something being sprayed into it, only to see Joe put down a can of lighter fluid and pick up a box of matches.

“It’s for your own good, Pete.” Andy said calmly as Pete tried again to get out of Andy’s hold.

“You’re fucking insane!” Pete yelled at his band as Joe lit a match.

“Elliott, you getting this?” Patrick asked Elliott, who had apparently been just behind Pete and Andy the whole time.

“Getting wha- ARE YOU FILMING THIS?!” Pete shrieked as he turned his head to see Elliott holding his phone up.

“Streaming it.” Elliott replied dully and looked back to Joe as he dropped the match into the trash can.

“NO!” Pete screamed as he lurched forwards only to fall and be pinned back down by Andy as his shoes burned in front of him.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“We’re doing this for you, Pete.” Patrick said sincerely as he withdrew a pair of Nikes from behind him. Pete stared at the sneakers, and promptly burst into tears as Patrick knelt down and unlaced the shoes Pete already had on, and replaced them with the Nikes.

“See, isn’t that much better?” Joe asked earnestly, almost patronisingly.

 “Why?” Pete spluttered out through tears and a choking sob as the smell of his burning shoes hit his nose.

“You’ll thank us later.”

Pete blinked his eyes open with a start and jumped when he was greeted with the sight of his living room… and not a burning trash can.

“Wha…” He mumbled as he came to his senses and out of his apparent dream/nightmare and back into the real world.

“Huh, weird.” He contemplated as he felt movement on his chest and looked down to see a bundle of Marvel just starting to stir. Pete looked around to properly assess his surrounding and remembered that he’d sat down on his sofa to give Marvel her lunch, and fallen asleep afterwards because parenting is just that glamorous.

“Did I wake you up?” Pete asked gently as Marvel blinked up at him with big sleepy eyes.

“Sorry.” Pete hushed and pressed a soft kiss to his daughters head.

“You don’t hate my shoes, do you?” Pete joked health-heartedly with a light chuckle; Marvel stared up at him, looking into his eyes in the strange _all seeing_ way babies tend to do, and promptly vomited all over Pete’s shirt.

“Thanks for that.” Pete sighed and stood up to go clean up.

_I guess actions speak louder than words._

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey! hope you enjoyed this, technically this is a collaboration because it was born from me ranting about Pete's shoes to my friend on Instagram, the same friend that inspired Patrick Is Bees, but I don't think they'd want to be associated with this tbh. and they don't even know I wrote it soooooo. 
> 
> comments and kudos are always lovely!


End file.
